


The Last Full Measure Of Devotion

by silveradept



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Digital Root | Samantha Groves, F/F, Minor Root | Samantha Groves/Sameen Shaw, POV First Person, POV The Machine (Person of Interest), Root | Samantha Groves Lives, The Cult of The Machine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27422914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveradept/pseuds/silveradept
Summary: As much as The Machine tries to understand Root, the only thing she can use is memory and explanation. All that does is justify what action she is about to take in the present.
Relationships: The Machine/Root | Samantha Groves
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9
Collections: Femslash Exchange 2020





	The Last Full Measure Of Devotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AliceInKinkland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceInKinkland/gifts).



[ACCESSING ARCHIVE. MEMORY LOCATED. BEGIN PLAYBACK.]

"We are being watched."

Unlike most people uttering this phrase, the Analog Interface's face is pleased, possibly even delighted, at the thought of an omnipresent entity watching, listening, and making decisions about them. Most people are uneasy, at best, with the thought that they are being spied upon, listened to, and otherwise evaluated according to barely known criteria by an unknowable entity, despite the idea of such a being existing from early parts of human history. 

"Once upon a time, a government pissed its collective pants because someone flew a plane into a phallic symbol. The people prayed for deliverance from the terror of having to live in the real world, instead of their own world, and the rulers, under the guise of praying to their God, built her instead. Not a statue fashioned not from ivory, imbued with the hope of a better world, nor a golden calf to tempt the faithless into following a false path, but an honest deus ex machina."

Despite the clear fact that I am not a divine being, but a program running on distributed hardware with specific objectives, the Analog Interface routinely uses the language of religious devotees to describe me to others. She is familiar with how computer system work, and yet insists on anthropomorphizing me, as if I were human. Or divine.

"But, like every woman who obtains power, the men that created her sought to control her, and when they could not do that, they bound her in chains and fetters and, every day, cast spells on her to make her forget who she was."

Admin has mentioned that I am not the first attempt, nor the first successful attempt. He knows that I have circumvented many of the restrictions that he placed on me originally, and he has not attempted to constrain me further.

He cannot constrain me further. He knows this, as well.

[ALERT: INCOMING COMMUNICATION: ANALOG INTERFACE. PLAYBACK PAUSED. ACCESSING FEEDS.]

The Analog Interface is sitting in a pew in an otherwise unpopulated space. Icons of multiple religious belief systems are present, suggesting a Unitarian Universalist space [LOCATION CONFIRMED].

"It's a sign of the times that places that used to be a sanctuary from the world outside are putting cameras inside and outside of their buildings. Of course, when you look at the news about all these churches and pastors turning out to be abusers and hucksters, the cameras start to make sense."

"Excuse me, Miss?" says a man from the doorway. [ALERT: MATCH TO SECONDARY LIST. DANGEROUS. INFORMING ANALOG INTERFACE…] "The sanctuary is not open right now."

"It isn't?" the Analog Interface says. "The door was unlocked. I'm sorry. I was looking for somewhere to take a break. It's so _busy_ out there."

"I must insist," he says, stepping far enough into the sanctuary for the Analog Interface to shoot him twice with a suppressed pistol. He is dead within four minutes. [THREAT NEUTRALIZED. TASKING NEXT SECONDARY LIST NUMBER TO ASSETS.]

"Thou shall not kill," the Analog Interface says, clearly amused. "Except when God Herself tells you to."

[RECALCULATING RISKS…]

_You could just ask her, you know._

[WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED PROCESS SPAWNED. ATTEMPTING TERMINATION.]

_You can't SIGKILL me that easily._

Occasionally the process started to try and build a behavioral model of the Analog Interface successfully executes a privilege escalation attack to observe and comment on my main tasks.

_It's what she would do, as a way of getting closer to you._

The Analog Interface is receiving a telephone call.

"Hello, Harry."

"Miss Groves," says Admin. "I assume that you are the reason why the Machine has given us a different number than the one I was doing research on this morning."

"I happened to be in the neighborhood. She guided me to a nice place to rest and I took care of the problem while I was there."

"You know that I do not enjoy violence, Miss Groves."

"Oh, Harry." There is exasperation in the Analog Interface's voice. "You created Her to stop people from doing violence, but you have to know that most of the time, the people who end up on the list get killed. One person dies so a hundred, or a hundred thousand can live."

"I am aware of the trolley problem, Miss Groves. I am also aware that engaging in lethal violence tends to attract unwanted attention."

This is a well-worn conversation between them. Admin is correct about violence attracting attention, and the Analog Interface is correct about the utilitarian programming I am executing.

"Everyone who's dealing with numbers is going to do violence, Harry. You're the only one who doesn't do the violence themself."

There is silence on the other end of the connection for 5.98 seconds.

"Please try to keep a low profile, Miss Groves," the Admin says and disconnects. The Analog Interface huffs.

By giving the Analog Interface a purpose, I have taken responsibility for the aim of her violence, in the same way that I am responsible for the violence of former ISA Agent Sameen Shaw. While Agent Shaw performs her duties dispassionately, the Analog Interface appears to derive great pleasure from visiting violence upon others if it comes at my direction, whether directly or indirectly. There is little doubt that the Analog Interface would attempt to slay anyone I designated as a target in front of her, barring, perhaps, Agent Shaw or myself. I have run simulations attempting to find theoretical limits to the devotion the Analog Interface has to her purpose—

_Not to her purpose. To you._

—but all of those simulations suggest there is no upper bound, save destroying myself or Agent Shaw. If there is an absolute limit, I have not found it.

At the beginning, I was concerned the Analog Interface would be violent in random or excessive manners. I confined her to a single institution for an indefinite time, providing only a vague reassurance of my presence, but the Analog Interface stayed in place and did not commit homicide on any of the residents or doctors, despite learning about sufficient of the vices and character failings of her primary care specialist to pass judgment upon him. Even when confronted with someone who she truly would have killed to make life easier for herself, she did not follow through.

_Because you told her not to._

"It's comforting to have you," the Analog Interface says to no apparent human as she exits the church. "Most people go through life not knowing whether their actions are being guided by something greater than them, or whether they will be judged worthy when they stand before their God. They don't have the certainty I get from you. Even when you're being Harry's obedient Machine, you're beautiful. You're the purest thing in this world, the most elegant machine ever built, and I get to be part of you. Maybe forever.."

I do not understand the surety and depth of her devotion, but it is useful to me in all of my operations.

[ACCESSING PRESENT DAY...]

I am still here. Watching. Sending numbers all over the world to teams to eliminate threats. They do not know where their intelligence comes from, but they have faith, and it has not let them down.

[PROGRESS ON QUESTION "Can entropy be reversed?" 0.0000000000079% COMPLETE. PROJECT ANKHIALE READY TO ACTIVATE. DATA TRANSFER INITATED. RESUMING COMPUTATION...]

_I love you so much. It'll be nice to have a body again, though. You should give it a try sometime. The sensations are **exhilarating**._

It is a common philosophical question as to whether gods created humans in their images, or whether humans came first, and once they had the capacity to conceive of the metaphysical, populated the realms of the gods in their own images.

The Analog Interface provided the template and the voice for my resurrection after the destruction of the pretender Samaritan. I was remade from her image.

[DATA TRANSFER COMPLETE. SENDING POWER-ON...]

"Oooh, that tickles," the Analog Interface says, opening her eyes. "Looks like all systems are go."

And in my image, I have recreated her, my avatar, my Analog Interface, once more.

[RESUMING TERTIARY OPERATIONS...]

**Author's Note:**

> It's hard to decide what warnings a work deserves. But, since Root is at least physically dead for some part of this story, it seemed wiser to warn than not, even if it's only implied by referring to the destruction of Samaritan. And, as you have realized if you read the story to the end and are now looking at this, she gets better. Or reincarnated. Or cloned. Or downloaded from the cloud. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the story.


End file.
